An Exquisite Corpse: The Haunted Femdom

Note: This writing is a collaborative work orchestrated by Lady Nej and produced by the writers as outlined below.  Each writer was given the last line written by the previous participant.  The end result is a surrealist confection.  Enjoy!

An Exquisite Corpse
The Haunted Femdom, pt 1
by: Tika, Rebs, Tyche, Axelle, Sillien, Kevin, Lauren and Eva
Edited by Nej

It was a dark and stormy night. In the dim light of the moon, which at times shone from behind a cloud, one could catch a glimpse of the remains of the once magnificent Dominion Castle - now lying in ruins. Only the distant hooting of the owls' and Chattel's grunting and snoring from the pit was heard with the wind. Everyone was asleep -- except a few sub's who had been forgotten in jail cells under the rubble and a pair of Dommes still discussing whether it was acceptable to have a washable floor in the courtyard. Nothing was unusual that night until suddenly ... a ghostly figure in black carrying a whip in one hand and a dildo in the other appeared before me.  She called out in a raspy voice, "Where's my boy?  Who took my boy?"  Her eyes barreled down on me. And the whip cracked and the dildo began to gyrate and buzz ominously.

She loved that show - this  Julia Child of torture!  She grinned, her milky skin framed by piles of dark hair secured by the clenched toes of live bats.  Suddenly, thunder and lightening pierced the quiet darkness outside the castle.  The room blackened.  With no cable she'd go nuts.  "I know"!   Wearing her signature purple leather, candle casting dancing shadows , she tiptoed up to the turret where the object of her passion lay.   She forced the handle of a bloodied whip between the teeth of her shackled  victim muffling his screams .  He would not hope that someone might hear and rescue him.

The edges of his vision began to blur and darkness soon followed. He dipped in and out of consciousness for the next several hours, before clarity returned. He saw nothing, but heard his tormentors voice. "Everything has a price my dear", she crooned delicately. It was followed by the distinct sound of flesh meeting flesh and a soft whimper. There was a yelp as the tell tale sound of heels clicking the floor echoed in the room. But there was another sound he could not quite place, it seemed to be the muffle of struggle and the dragging of weight. His darkened vision became more black, and he realized how close she now stood, this time with another victim in tow.

He should have felt terrified. His heart should have been crushed in the grip of insurmountable fear. Instead he felt...aroused? What the fuck? Seriously?? There’s a dangerous woman within spitting distance and he’s rock hard? I mean, what the hell is wrong with him? Danger is walking right towards and all he can think of is how sexy she looks in a belly shirt with a knife in her hand? That’s it. I’m done. Oh look. She’s noticed him. She’s giggling as she approaches, a grin spreading across her face from ear to ear.

As she looks down at his naked body laying on the bed. He is blindfolded, gagged and cuffed in four point restraints, spread eagle.  His cock strains inside the plastic chastity device. She reaches for the candle burning brightly on the night stand, and her words cut him like a knife, "I hope you enjoy pain, my boy".  She lifts the candle inches above his cock, steadying her hand so the hot wax lands on his balls. She tilts the candle and slowly the wax pours over his caged cock and balls.  He tries to scream but the sounds are muffled by the gag.

"Oh god, this is so wrong; what a witch." As if she could read his thoughts a creepy cackle escapes her dark red  stained lips. "You are such a pretty thing," she whispers. The room goes dark and quiet, he hears her heels click loudly then fading away, the calm before all hell breaks loose. Why was this happening? He struggles the ropes cutting and burning into his wrist, its so utterly useless. "Fuck it, she can do whatever she wants to me."

Her dark, toffee-coated voice dripped into my ears gripped me.  I felt myself fall under her, those round, sticky sweet words slithering into my veins and swallowing my will whole.  She bid me to remove my clothes and lie down on an absurdly archaic-looking stone slab in the center of the room.  I lifted the thin shirt over my head and felt a shiver -- a thousand tiny spiders scattering up my spine.  She had positioned herself behind me.  I hadn't seen her move; rather I felt the air around me shift, like a curtain parting.  I closed my eyes tightly, realizing the futility of resisting such a woman .  As she softly dabbed the tips of her fingers against the small of my back, I had the distinct and unwelcome impression that she was preparing for some kind of attack.  But it was too late.  All my armor had fallen away with my clothes.  I tensed myself, and blindly felt behind me for the stone. The cruel, cold slate met my fingers and I closed my eyes and leaned back.